Weight of the World
by BelovedSlayer
Summary: The veil between the Hellmouth and the Underworld opens on the night of Halloween, and on typical Slayer duty, Buffy is captured into a vortex that will lead her to encounter a brainwashed Angel, hell bent on destroying the entire Slayer line.
1. Prologue

Author's Notes: Takes place immediately after Becoming Part II, although AU. Seasons Three through Seven never happened. I decided to write this just in time for Halloween. As for how many chapters this story will be written for, it will probably be lengthy. Sorry that it's so short. Next chapter will be longer. Happy Halloween!

Prologue.

Darkness and fire encased his surroundings. The heat was so torturous that countless blisters were developing on his cold skin, even though it had never occurred in the 242 years of his existence. He spent countless years trapped, imprisoned in the harshness of this dimension, his wrists and ankles bound and chained by the rattling of cast iron, but even in his vampiric state he had never gotten used to the inhuman temperature. It was Hell itself, and he had finally believed the descriptions of what it was supposed to be like.

Demons arrived, and they left, and they beckon to him, but his only response was utter ignorance to those that didn't matter the least. Any salvation that remained left in his body was kept in the deepest recess of his mind. His Slayer. But along with that came disappointment that she had not attempted to rescue him. When the feeling became much too strong for him to hold back, he growled, enough to startle those that passed by.

With disappointment itself came the unending fear. He was aware of what was transpiring. It was why he was here, he discovered not long ago. He knew what was happening to him although he loathe it. His soul, inch by inch, was disappearing. He could feel the power of Angelus residing beside him, attempting to take over. He felt the hollowness engulfing him, reaching into his unbeaten heart.

Each day it was a battle to keep the goodness of him above the surface, but those days were now far and in between. It was a struggle to remind himself of the good he had done, more importantly, the love that he still had for his beloved.

These days, it was coming to a point where he was close to stop caring all together. And then, the pain formed, etched in his stomach, reaching to his upper chest. _He_ was coming. And there was nothing that Angel could do. It was out of his hands.

The Slayer line, and his love, were now in danger of extinction. All in the hands of the one with the Angelic Face.

_Himself. _


	2. Sire

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews. Hopefully with more chapters, the storyline will improve a bit. This will be an on-going story. Or at least, until I run out of ideas for it. Honestly though, the idea for this fic just popped in my head earlier today. I hope you guys have a Happy Halloween. Enjoy. **

A swift, perfectly executed hit to the cheekbone was all it took to knock her flat on the dry pavement with a loud thud. She landed flat on her back, noticing the vampire towering over her, his pointy fangs lengthening into needle points, extending past his lower mouth. A growl rumbled deep in his upper chest, his fingers extending into claws, and a moment's notice was all it took before he began to attack her once more.

Never wasting a second, the Slayer rolled to the right, standing on her left knee, knocking the bloodsucker over with an arm tucking underneath his kneecap. He tumbled onto the wet grass, and it was the perfect opportunity for an old-fashioned staking. A second had passed, and Mr. Pointy was piercing his heart. And then, he exploded into a pile of ashes.

With the vampire vanquished, the silence of the night now enveloped the faintly lit cemetery. Accessing her body for any signs of injury, Buffy trotted through the weathered and beaten tombstones, keeping Slayer senses on high alert.

Leaves rustled in the distance as the cold wind begin to pick up despite plunging temperatures. So far, everything was still, remotely calm. But that was about to change. Moments later, her ears picked up a sound of a growl resonating from somewhere in the lower bushes that was partially hiding a centuries-old crypt to her far left. Despite her approaching the area, Slayer senses warned her of danger that crept in the small limestone building.

Never one to go against her instincts, Buffy picked up a well-endowed silver-bladed scythe. The weight of the weapon felt good in her hands. Narrowing her eyes, she crept silently against the soft mew grass, her heart beating rapidly against her chest.

Something was amiss. Her body repeatedly sensed it. She heard shuffling and voices not too far from where she was standing. With no time to waste, she hid behind the branches of a tall oak tree.

Straight ahead, she detected two large shadows exiting another crypt, carrying a decorated ornament that was unfamiliar to her. It was encased in a large silver box that was locked with a padlock.

With a plan forming in her head, she scurried along to the nearest crypt, scythe and stake still holding firmly in her hands. "C'mon c'mon, what's taking her so long? We're supposed to get this back to the Master already," a hideous-looking vampire dressed in leather whined impatiently to his partner, who resembled a tall Viking, long shimmering blond hair and brows included. Slayer instincts had told her to attack the vamps from behind, but before she could perform a sneak attack, her ears picked up light steps exiting from the same crypt. It belong to a female vampire. A female vampire that had blond tresses, a slim body, and one who wore a Catholic blue-checkered schoolgirl uniform.

A female vampire that was supposed to be dead years ago by the hands of the one she loved. Angel. Buffy immediately recognized her as Darla. How was it possible that she was resurrected? A tinge of worry was settling in the Slayer's stomach, but she didn't risk the chance to move.

"Boys, boys, for shame. I got what we came here for, didn't I?" She purred towards the Viking vamp, carrying an item that was sheathed in a maroon cloth. She had her game face on, her fangs stained with a crimson red that resembled blood. It was obvious that she had fed earlier on tonight, otherwise a glow wouldn't have permeated off from her.

"You better have, otherwise the Master would have killed us. You know that we need this to bring your lover back to his former self," the leather-clad vampire scowled. Darla responded with a polished nail slithering down his chest. "My my, aren't we the impatient one? Don't you worry yourself there, Armetheus. Angelus is my problem, not yours."

Shocked and pained at the discovery of Angelus appearing again put the Slayer back in immediate action. Despite the countless times that she had attempted to bring Angel back from the hellish dimension, she was determined that Angelus was not going to make his demonic presence known. Not after what had happened.

It was her solemn vow to the world. And to herself.

"Still looking a little worn around the eyes, aren't you Darla?" Buffy shook her head in disapproval, making her own presence known in the eyes of the three vampires. The scythe in hand shone wickedly under the pale light of the moon.

"Well well, if it isn't the cheerleader. Come to save your precious Angel again, aren't you? Well too bad, not gonna happen. Not while I'm around," Darla sneered, her mouth forming into a firm grin, both of her minions standing side by side, like predators preparing to circle around their vulnerable prey.

"Well, it's always nice to keep on trying," Buffy replied, looking doggedly at her fingernails, as if she didn't have a care in the world. She stood her ground, keeping her eyes on the vampires' movements. She narrowed her eyes into slits, fists clenching her weapons behind her back. "You don't think we'll let you get away so easily, do you Slayer?" Darla's voice now took on a dangerous tone.

"Let me see…well technically, no. But you don't think I came here alone, did you?" Buffy's eyebrows cocked in defiance, revealing her arsenal. Before Darla could answer, Buffy launched herself against the Viking vampire that was approaching her, knocking him flat against the nearest crypt.

He readied himself to toss a punch, but not before the Slayer quickly ducked, kicking him on the side of his abdomen before kneeing him in the head. Using her scythe, she immediately attacked the other vampire that attempted to land on her from behind, using the weighted handle to knock the vamp into unconsciousness. With her strength at full maximum, she was not going to allow them to take the upper hand. Not when there were more important things at risk.

Using the open opportunity before her, Buffy decapitated Leather Face's head, and then he spiraled into motes of dust. The Viking snarled from behind, but without turning her head, the Slayer used her stake to piece his heart from underneath her arm. dusted.

"You shouldn't have come back," she warned to Darla, cleaning off the blade while keeping her focus on her. Darla pretended to shiver in a mock imitation.

"Ooo. Is the big bad Slayer threatening me? Not a chance. As soon as Angelus is resurrected, we will come and destroy every last one of your kind," She smiled in determination. This angered the Slayer, but it only resolved her determination. With no more words spoken, she sprinted to tackle the form of Angel's sire. Abruptly a large whirling violet vortex appeared directly behind Darla, pulling both the Slayer and the ages-old vampire into its' tunnel.

The lines, from then on, were about to be drawn.


	3. Love, Enemy

**A/N: Thanks guys so much for the reviews. I'm glad you're liking the story so far. This chapter here takes place in Buffy's nightmare, while she's still trapped in the vortex. It might be one of her precognitive dreams, as we all know that sometimes her dreams came true. Hope you enjoy!**

She muttered carelessly, head fastidiously tossing and turning, as if her mind were trapped in a remote nightmare. The beating of her heart accelerated, as if she were suffering from a heart palpitation. She felt cold, angry hands wrapping strongly around her throat, constricting her breathing until she lost the ability to exhale. She felt her lungs collapsing against her chest as she desperately kneed him in the groin, forcing him to release his hold on her.

Not taking a chance to relax, she furiously performed a backhand punch against his bloodied face, as the move sent him reeling across the familiar room, his lithe, half-naked tall body hitting against the ivory stone wall with a loud thud. A three-inch crack could be seen within the distance as he landed on the bare frigid floor with a feral, pained snarl.

The sound was enough to send violent shivers throughout her powerful body, but she couldn't be weakened by the sight of her already weakening prey. She had to continue her physical assault despite the cost that was at hand.

Despite the fear of inflicting immense suffering upon him, she felt her heart and mind battling against each other in inner turmoil simultaneously. She was losing her focus as he immediately picked himself from the floor, fangs glistening against the bare light of the opening ceiling as he rushed to tackle her against the stone wall of the fireplace.

She quickly ducked in time to prevent further injury, then kicked him underneath the kneecap. She rapidly performed a series of punches and kicks throughout his stomach and thighs until he didn't muster the strength to continue standing. He was faltering.

In the middle of the carnage, it fueled his fire to exact his vengeance as he unexpectedly blocked the last kick from the Slayer, holding onto her slim leg as he flipped her body over his, using every last once of his remaining strength in his disposal as her small body crashed into the nearest coffee table, shards of broken wood flying in each direction as he attempted to duck the potentially harmful pieces.

"C'mon schoolgirl, you can do better than that," he taunted, with a cruel sneer forming on his beautiful face. In the corner where the darkest shadows had fallen, he felt eyes brimming onto his bare back, approving his tactics with obvious glee. On the inside, he felt most proud that he was pleasing his Master.

On the outside, his only irresistible desire was to continue his torture on the one who had showed him what it was like to be a man, to be able to feel. It was a punishment that in his blackest of hearts, wouldn't have gone unnoticed. At the moment that was his main intention. To make her suffer for what she had done. Forgiveness, at this point, was an absolute no.

Wiping traces of blood away from his lips and fangs, he towered over her, taking his time to observe her various wounds and cuts, a pleased expression forming on his handsome face. Soon, he was going to finish what they had started months ago. "What's wrong Buff? Cat got ya tongue?" He laughed, wrapping his injured hand around the neck of her blouse, pulling her up until she came face to face with him.

Her hardened eyes gazed onto his, but it was completely unrecognizable. As if the Angel she knew and loved was no longer there. She couldn't breath; the cuts and various bruises almost too much to bear as she cried in pain, and in heartbreak. Compared to the time when she was forced to send him to Hell, the suffering he was inflicting upon her was inconceivable.

She turned her eyes away, no longer able to withstand the vicious glee she saw in his soulless, light less brown eyes. Anger was boiling in the deepest recess of her battle hardened soul as she attempted to avoid her former lover's steely expression. With a silver dagger etched in her hand, she slammed the heavy lilt directly at his face a he released his hold on her.

Her compassion for him was vanishing; anger and hatred reappeared once again in her features as she begin her continued assault on him, kicking him in between his thighs and then onto his abdomen. Anger gave her remarkable strength, and the power of the Slayer was at its' highest peak. She was unstoppable.

And then, her enemy, her lover, fell into the void of unconsciousness. He did not move, but she decided not to risk a chance of touching him by not approaching him any further. In his soulless form, he was capable of any form of trickery. A moment later, a flash of light flickered as his eyes fluttered open, his body drawing an unnecessary gasp of breath as he eyed his surroundings, confusion filling his expression.

Buffy suspected that it had to be a trick. She picked up a broken shard of wood, careful but steadily walking towards him, heart beating rapidly against her chest as her Slayer senses entered overload territory.

"Careful. All is not what appears to be," a female voice like the wind whispered in her ear in warning. A voice that belonged to a Slayer in a previous life. The hairs on Buffy's neck rose to its' highest, as she sensed that something was definitely amiss. She sensed eyes somewhere in the corner of the mansion, watching her, but she couldn't detect the presence anywhere in the mansion.

For a second, she pondered whether or not the eyes were responsible for his transformation, and the thought vanished as quickly as it had come as she sensed movement shifting below her. "Look out!" the same voice warned as Buffy prepared herself for another battle. Her enemy was rising to his feet, but the difference in his expression was noticed.

His features had soften, the vampire face was no longer there. Immediately, she had soften her stance, loosening her hardened grip on the stake. "Angel?" she whispered, in a voice full of awe and uncertainty. Her eyes brimming with tears, she dropped her stake as she approached him, encircling her arms around his waist.

She didn't notice the stern, determined expression on his face. "He's attempting to bite you! Get away from him!" the wind voice cried. Before she could obey, Buffy felt the sting of sharp fangs piercing her exposed throat.


	4. Undertow

**A/N: What to say here... First off, for the rest of the story, it will be more action-orientated because you know, Buffy being the Slayer and all, so this is definitely not going to be an elaborate story. This is probably not my best written chapter**, **but I hope you guys enjoy it regardless. And as always, thank you so much for the reviews so far. Also, the First in this story is not The First that we know of in Season Seven. This First is pretty much the ultimate vampire, much more powerful and evil than Dracula himself. For the next chapter, I might be taking my time writing it because I usually like to process my ideas first before I rush in and start writing, otherwise it'll be utter crap. But anyways, enjoy the chapter!**

She awoke with a sharp gasp that penetrated her bones, beads of sweat trickling down her brows and cheeks, her hair matted with clumps of dirt. Being in the Slayer business, she knew when to pay particular attention to her dreams, especially if they were prophetic. This one was no exception, but she didn't have time to examine it. For now, she had to put it in the back of her mind and focus on more important matters at hand. She barely had enough time to adjust to her new found surroundings when a rough hand abruptly pulled her up to her feet, shoving her towards a double steel door, almost causing her to stumble.

She spun her head in time to see a seven-foot vampire dressed in dirty rags with muscled arms, grimacing at her with a cruel expression underneath a coarse flour bag that bore open holes as its' eyes.

A plan forming in her head, she elbowed him directly at his iron stomach, mustering up her strength to place a kick to his kneecaps and ribcage before he tumbled onto the brick-layered floor, his body causing a small shake in its' wake. Buffy struggled to regain her footing when the quake suddenly had come to a halt.

As to figure out her current location, she knew somewhere in the depths of her heart that she was in the dimension of Hell. Or, in other words, the Underworld.

Hell itself was not what normal people had described; the temperatures were unbearably hot, but it mostly resembled a weathered form of an abandoned fortress, its' walls aligned with countless number of prison cells, each occupied by either demon, vampire, or werewolf. They appeared to be slaves; feet and hands bound by rattling chains and rope. She shook her head to forget the horrid images, noticing a heavy padlock adjoined to the double doors ahead, and with a swift kick, the padlock snapped into two.

Her hand reaching for the knob, she felt a strong hand pulling her back with remarkable force. "Going somewhere Slayer? I don't think so," the female voice cooed before tossing Buffy directly against the nearest prison cell with a loud clank. Immediately she knew that the voice belonged to Darla.

She stood regally over the Slayer, eyes gleaming deadly as poison as she pressed a heeled foot against the Slayer's throat, constricting her breathing. "You don't think I'll let you get to Angelus, do you? Not until you meet my Master," she said in a mocking sing-song voice.

"Oh c'mon, can't we just fight this girly to girly? You know, with the hair-pulling, scratching nails sort of thing?" Buffy pretentiously whined, shoving the heel away from her throat as she gasped for breath. She rose to her feet, but not before she was hit with a thick hilt of a sword. She quickly spun around to retaliate, but Darla was no longer there.

Instead, a man that appeared to be ageless was standing in her place, long jet-black hair pulled back in a ponytail, his body tall, muscled, and lithe that was dressed entirely in black. Buffy did not recognize him in the slightest bit. His eyes were the blackest of onyx, and the faintest hint of light threw back its' reflection as if it were a reflecting mirror.

"Hmm, let me guess. Are you some sort of deformed version of Dracula dressed in a bad Elvis outfit? Because it doesn't really work for you," Buffy sarcastically remarked in an attempt to displace her fear. Warning signals in her head were alerting her, as if she sensed something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was noticeable that she was face to face with a creature that radiated charisma, malice, and power.

She took a step back, placing careful eyes on any potential shuffling. "So, we finally come face to face Slayer. Honored to finally meet such a worthy adversary. At last."

"Care to tell me who you are? Oh wait, no, let me guess. This'll probably come as no surprise. You're uh….Evil?" She passively guessed.

"_Ultimate_ Evil, you might say. I am the Darkness that every one of your kind fears. I am simply known as The First. Or perhaps, the First Vampire. I am the Master of this Underworld. You may have heard of me," he smiled ruefully, as if he were proud to formally introduce himself.

"Oh boy, Dracula in the flesh. Can I get your autograph pretty please? I've been dying to meet you," the Slayer gleefully squealed. Behind her back, she held firmly to her stake. He grinned, bemused by her response.

"Dracula? I think not Slayer. Even the almighty Dracula himself had feared me, as I was his father. I am simply the First. And I take proudly of the fact that throughout the many centuries that I have existed, I maimed many of your fellow warriors. And soon, you will be next." She shivered, but didn't allow him to see her weakness.

With that, he unexpectedly ventured across the prison room, attempting to launch himself directly at Buffy. She ducked, rolling across the hard brick of the ground floor as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps landing mere inches away from her. She felt the hard kick of his foot connecting with her ribs, knocking her senseless until dizziness entered her vision.

"You can do better than that Slayer." She felt another kick against her stomach; this time it was powerful enough to send her dashing across the room, the sounds of cheering echoing throughout the prison as the inmates looked on in excitement. Instinct told her that the stake was not enough to attack to destroy the First.

She heard the sounds of the double doors being pulled out of its' hinges as another voice entered the prison. A familiar voice that she automatically remembered.

"Let me have at her Master. She's mine," the voice of Angelus pleaded with a smirk. He stood by the now door less entrance, beads of sweat trickling down his half-naked form; various small cuts and drops of dried blood covered his hardened face as she could see his sharpened fangs protruding down his mouth. A feral expression crossed his face. It was apparent that he wore the signs of being tortured beyond measure.

The Angel she knew was no longer there, and in its' place she knew instinctively that Angelus had taken over. Backing into the nearest right corner, Buffy was now helpless as she realized that the dream she had the night before was now coming to pass...


	5. Shattered

**A/N: Mucho gracias for the reviews, and I appreciate the honesty in them. It helps me try to make my stories better and see what needs improving as sometimes I can be a dork when it comes to writing. This is another action-filled chapter, but this time I decided to write it differently, as I wanted to focus more on Buffy's confusing feelings towards Angelus, and the angst that comes with that. As much as I love giving them a happy ending, I also wanted to include the drama that was also a big part of their relationship, and to show Angelus' heartlessness as I'm hoping to add more of that in future chapters. About the kiss scene in which Buffy saw Angel's eyes returning to normal color, and that this new power suddenly attacked Darla, well, I guess it goes to show you that the power of love can triumph over evil, but I don't want to show too much of that just yet. As for how long I want this story to go, I honestly have no idea. I wanted to keep it at just a few chapters long, but it depends if you guys want it to continue. This chapter might be a bit confusing. Enjoy!  
**

She was at a loss for words. No sounds, not even a gasp would be released from her lips. It was as it time was standing still, with only herself and him directly placed in the middle, as if they were merely puppets playing their roles in the vastness of the fortress. The nightmare was coming to pass, and it reeled her in with a vicious punch to her sternum that she could not prevent.

Despite the initial reaction, nothing could have readied her for what was about to transpire. She did not give herself time for the mental and emotional preparation. Regardless of the lack of it, she was ready for the potentially necessary kill.

In the farthest corner, she probed the foreboding eyes of the First, his smile leering, equipped with a sickening joy that the Slayer could not fully comprehend. It was bringing her grief, and a sense of premature loss that she couldn't understand.

With countless peering eyes looking on, she turned to face her enemy, her lover, her companion and warrior. A growl emanated from his naked chest; he was ready for the battle, for the glory of having to take the life of the Slayer. Her heart was shattering into countless pieces, but she had to forcefully ignore the immense pain that was stabbing at her repeatedly. There were more important matters at hand.

"Angel, you don't want to do this," she tried to reason to him, but it was as difficult as speaking to a cement wall. Her words did not go through. They were impenetrable. "Sure I do," Angelus retorted. No longer did she recognize the warm cinnamon color of his eyes; they were now replaced with a coldness of an opaque tone. "He's mine now Slayer. Always were," Darla's voice resonated as she appeared directly by the side of her vampire lover.

A flicker of jealously coursed through the Slayer's veins, until it was replaced by a fire that she didn't notice before. Right now, it was giving her strength beyond measure, beyond reason, like a coal of white-hot fire burning deeply within her chest, as if it were branding her. As of now, she was no longer the vulnerable eighteen year old who was once so blindly in love.

In its' place, she was the rightful warrior for the Powers, the Champion, the Slayer, but that new ounce of courage didn't last for long. "C'mon Slayer, you don't want to leave me hanging without a fight, do ya? Don't go soft on me now," Angelus pouted, his words so familiar to the Slayer's ears.

Her mouth pursing into firm lines, she withdrew her stake, willing to begin the challenge using the best weapons that she had in her disposal; her hands, feet, and resourcefulness.

The sounds of bloodthirsty jeering could be heard from each of the prison cells, but Buffy did not give the creatures an ounce of her attention. She maintained her focus on defeating the Scourge of Europe.

"Who said anything about me going soft?" she recounted, before immediately tackling his tall form onto the brick pavement.

In the back of her mind, she sensed that the First was no longer in the corner, watching in glee.

She attempted to continue her attack, but not before she felt the harsh pulling of hair. Darla. "You've been on top of him enough as it is, Slayer," her voice laced with hatred and anger, connecting her fist to the Slayer's cheekbone. Immediately it drew a slash of blood, before her heeled foot connected with her chest, damaging a breastbone in the process.

Buffy cried out in pain, clenching her teeth tightly before the pain subsided to a dull ache. Ignoring Darla completely, she tried to reach towards Angelus. Taking a small step forward, she was stopped in her tracks by bolts of electricity that were suddenly coursing through her body, draining her strength to the point that she couldn't lift a finger.

She heard maniacal laughter boasting loudly from Angelus, his body surrounded with a protective vortex of power that was impossible to explain. In the midst of her torture, Buffy witnessed various bite marks etched across his upper body, including a few in the neck area. She spun her head away, blinking the unsightly images away with guilt.

She felt the beating of her heart picking up speed when he approached her, his opaque eyes cackling with a power that caused her to revel in fear. "My, my. Don't you look all pretty when you're bruised and tortured. Kind of a turn-on, really," his words were emotionless.

"Don't you dare touch me," Buffy bared between clenched teeth, anger, sadness, and desire filling her. Her response only furthered his amusement. "Oh c'mon Buff, you know you missed this," he caressed her face tenderly, feeding on her confusion; as if they were lovers, not contenders. She eyed the silver claddagh ring on his elongated finger, the crown pointing towards him.

In her heart of hearts, he still belonged to her.

Tears begin to brim in the corners of her eyes as she fought the electrical currents, despite the numbness entering her body. Confusion and bewilderment settled in her bones as the will to fight was spilling over. A part of her yearned to kill him; the other part screamed at her to press her lips against his in a futile attempt to save him from the vampires that had brought him to the dark void.

And that was what the Slayer did. She felt his strong hands pressing against hers, wrapping his fingers against her palms as if they were rope trying to bind her from freeing herself. She pressed her lips roughly against his cold ones, their tongues brushing softly as their kiss deepened with a passion that was making Angelus' vampire lover seething with envy.

"That's enough!" Darla snarled, venturing between her lover and the Slayer, before an electrical force sent her reeling as her body slammed roughly against the metal bars of a prison cell.

Moans and wails of disappointment could be heard and felt throughout the prison chambers, but Buffy could care less. "Angelus, that is enough! Remove yourself from her this once!" a voice that belonged to the First warned as he reappeared, his face contorted with frustration.

"No. No!" Buffy muttered, not wanting to break the kiss. In her eyes, she could see the blackness of Angelus' gaze slowly disappearing, revealing the slight color of cinnamon before it had reverted to its' darkened tone.

And a piercing cry emanated from her throat in waves that she couldn't imagine. She had lost him.


	6. Bitten

**A/N: The beginning of the chapter is going to focus on Darla just a bit. I'm intending for the drama of Buffy and Angel to become the drama of Angel being caught in the middle despite him being brainwashed, but having Darla and Buffy fighting over him in order to save his soul. I have a feeling that this story may turn to be my longest one yet. As always, thanks so much for the reviews. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!  
**

Her howled cries and unrelenting agony had brought satisfied joy among the countless masses of demon and vampire in attendance. If this was the inflicted suffering that they had wished upon her, it was truly coming to pass. And it had pleased the First, for surely his prisoner had done him well; for a novice who was destined to become his legacy.

In the distance, a fitted smile was plastered among Darla's vampiric face, her blue eyes sparkling with a veneer expression that she did not even remotely attempt to conceal in the presence of the broken Slayer. She reveled in the simplicity of slicing her heart into pieces. It was the mere icing on the long-awaited cake.

And for Darla, her dreams long ago of once again becoming one with Angelus were finally becoming reality, and for once, she truly smiled at the world, with a silent sneer to the hands that woven Fate itself. The Powers.

She slithered seductively towards her lover, who was eying her with a unquenchable lust flaming in his opaque eyes. An animalistic growl emanated from him, his hands begging to touch the frigidness of her cold, dead body.

"Mine now, Slayer. As I promised. You had your turn, now it's mine," Darla mocked in an attempt to further plunge the Slayer into deep despair.

Before the Slayer's sight, Darla's lips met alongside Angelus', their tongues lashing casually, the darkness in their lack of hearts meshing as one being. She felt the abrupt lashing of the Slayer beforehand, but it did no good except drained the last remaining ounce of her strength. She faltered, withering as if she were a flower lacking the purity and light of the sun. She bowed her head, defeated.

"It won't be long before you end up being the last of your kind. We will make sure of it. Nothing will stand between me and my lover," Darla continued to purr, before the sound erupted into lunatic laughter, and soon, the prisoners' joys joined hers in a cacophony of echoes.

Alongside her, a smirk formed on Angelus' vampiric face, no trace of mercy or compassion written in his expression or movements.

The Slayer released a harsh growl on her own while slipping in and out into feeble unconsciousness. How was that possible, she did not know. She could see black circles dancing feverishly in front of her eyes, as if they were irritating sunspots.

"How could you do this? I loved you," she muttered weakly, a single tear springing in the corner of her eye, before it fell gracefully onto the brick pavement. It landed with a soft splash. She lowered her head, afraid to meet her lover's darkened eyes. It was a sight that she could no longer bear to see. Guilt and blame weighted heavily on her shoulders, burdening her.

Angelus' clenched his teeth together, his lips pressed in a hard line before he surprised her by giving her the answer that had sent an arrow directly towards her shattered heart.

"You promised you'd saved me. And you didn't. You left me here to burn," were his only words, but they contained an emotion that she had barely recognized. Severe disappointment, and hopelessness. For a second, Buffy had felt that she had seen a tear developing in the corner of his eye. But it couldn't have been. Perhaps it was her imagination playing tricks with her vulnerable mind.

"Oh, come on Angelus. You never were this soft when it came to the cheerleader. Forget her. We can start living life together, you and I. Perhaps we can rule the world. Like we had in Europe. You were such a bad boy then. Don't you remember? Like old times," Darla cooed, wrapping her hand around his large one, as if he were her only possession.

She continued, her voice taking on a tone that Buffy did not like. "Go ahead. Kill her. Feed on her. You know you want to. You crave it."

Angelus' handsome face took on his vampiric appearance, his fangs sharpening into elongated lengths, reaching needle points past his regal mouth. Then, Buffy was now shackled with heavy, rattling chains that were clasped at her hands and feet. She was beyond helpless. She was aware instinctively of what his sire was attempting to accomplish. "Angel, don't. You don't want to do this," she pleaded, fresh tears brimming down her flushed cheeks as she tried desperately to break free from the steel chains.

It was to no avail. The chains were made to contain even the most powerful of Vampire Slayers. She distinctively heard the pleas and cheers of the demonic inmates encouraging her enemies to do what was necessary.

"Don't you listen to her Angelus. She is not your Master. She does not control you. I do," Darla continued, her voice reaching dangerous tones as she stood beside him. Her movements were similar to a fly that kept surrounding itself among the living. She saw and felt the hunger that was developing in his eyes, while Buffy prepared herself for whatever may be happening next. She had to keep her guard up, but she was as weak as a helpless kitten. She scanned the prison for any sign of a weapon, but the stake was located at the farthest corner, completely out of her reach.

Angelus' stood at level with his former love, a dire need to feed on her flesh eminent in his facial and body movements. He was itching to puncture the soft flesh of her neck.

"Angel?" Buffy pleaded yet again, trying to delve into his soul, to reach him."Angel's not here, schoolgirl. Try again," Angelus cooed, making skin-to-skin contact with her cheekbone. He caressed her cheek softly, as if admiring his prey, his arch nemesis immediately drawing back from his gentle touch, hazel eyes weary and drenched with dried tears. Pulling at the chains, she stood there motionlessly, drained of power. If he attempted to taste her blood, it would put herself, the past, present, and future Slayer line at an unimaginable risk. It would be the End of Days.

"What the hell are you doing Angelus? Drain her!" Darla snarled, hands drenched into claws, her heeled toes impatiently clacking against the pavement.

Angelus' ignored his sire's impatient pleas, tilting the head of his enemy, his lover to the side, exposing her delicate neck. In his eyes, he could see the scar that he had ingrained on her when she allowed him to feed on her. A thought of unfamiliar emotion swept at him, before he punctured his fangs into her throat.

And greedily, hungrily, he drank. And it gave him immense power.


	7. Savior

**Author's Notes: In this chapter, a Slayer from the past is introduced into the fold. I tried my best to write Angelus as best as I could as he was in the show, so it's safe to say that he's a pretty evil bastard in this chapter, more so than usual. **

The sharpness of his elegant, needle-point fangs punctured deeply onto her smooth, warm flesh. She felt wetness siphoned in the delicate area, two trails of riveting crimson blood brimming down her neck onto her bare shoulders.

Despite the tension that enveloped them, she instinctively, thoughtlessly, held on to dear life, her hands circling around his naked waist, his muscular body responding with beads of sweat that dripped carelessly onto the floor, nails digging onto his bare flesh that left crescent marks in its' wake. The last bite was simply orgasmic; this time, it was huddled with painful spasms and a shiver that she couldn't ignore.

Darla was seething with a jealousy much too powerful for her to contain. She couldn't stand the sight, much to her chagrin. She growled. "Angelus, that's enough! You've drank enough blood as it is," she warned, baring teeth and fangs, her face taking on a more visceral appearance.

"But she's delicious. Almost better than the first time I tasted her," Angelus whimpered in sheer delight, savoring in the warm, exotic taste.

For him, it was as if he were drinking the finest aged-wine known to man. It was something that he hadn't experienced since he left Sunnydale years ago. No regular human could compare to a Slayer's blood.

It brought him a euphoria that even he himself couldn't possibly understand, and it gave him a powerful high. "Stop. Please stop," Buffy's voice was already weakening from his feeding on her, the last ounce of her strength approaching at a low. She was close to fading into blackness.

"Not until I do this, Lover. Might bring back some fond memories of you and I," Angelus whispered in her ear, his voice barely containing with excitement. Buffy's senses were on alert, but it was too late for her to respond. She felt something sharp being plunged into her lower abdomen.

It took her breath away as she gazed helplessly down in bewilderment. What she had done to Angelus years ago was now being done to her. Now he was extracting his revenge on the woman he once loved.

"Didn't expect that, did ya Lover? Thought so," Angelus snickered, pushing the blade even further until it reached bone and left Buffy gasping and screaming in agony. Tears trickled down her face; anger, despair, and love both fighting for reach in her wet eyes.

She tumbled to the brick pavement, slowly losing consciousness as the laughter of Angelus billowed throughout the disjointed prison, joining with the jovial cheers of the demonic inmates, and Darla's.

"Almost had me fooled there Angelus. Good boy," she beamed proudly at her lover. In reward, he gave her a quick, dispassionate kiss. She favored it.

"One Slayer down. I just love the simplicity of it. No more Slayer, no more future Slayers. No line, well, we pretty much can conquer the world. Maybe we'll start with the Hellmouth first, go after your friends like I did before. It'll just be like déjà vu all over again," Angelus' smirk was full of triumph and glee as he stood before the Slayer, anticipating her last breath.

His opaque eyes now brimmed with a darker appearance that was neither black nor dark blue. It more resembled a deep black jade.

Angelus shifted his body, using his right foot to connect with the Slayer's face, breaking her nose then cartilage. The sounds of bone shattering were like music to his ears.

He never forgot how much he enjoyed torturing his beloved. A trail of blood seeped from her nostril, drops of crimson cascading past her mouth and chin.

"Ouch, that looked like it hurt. Don't ya just love the sound of bones and muscle breaking? I know I do. Not even the night we made love could compare to this," he mocked diligently. Buffy's eyes widened, and he knew that his words had hit close to home. He was aware that it was breaking her, and he greedily drank in it.

He clapped his hands. So did Darla as she continued to look on with a satisfied grin etched on her vampiric face. "Good boy, Angelus. Torture her. Make her pay!"

"Will do, my love. Just one more should do it," he mused, shifting his foot to kick her in the abdomen where the hilt of the blade was exposed.

A snarl of pain emanated from the Slayer, her body arching before dropping to its' original position. Waves of dizziness hit her, black spots forming in front of her eyes.

She was close to reaching death, helpless beyond repair. "Now you'll see what it's like to die at the hands of the one you loved," Angelus drawled, a serious look pressed on his face. Memories of their first kiss, their first date, the nights of patrolling the cemeteries together strolled through the Slayer's mind, before his words begin to sunk in.

The prisoners looked on, encouraging the legendary vampire to continue his rampage on their arch nemesis. Angelus was about to inflict more pain when he felt a bolt hit him from behind, staggering him to his knees before another hit sent him reeling.

Darla was the next to go, a violet fireball hitting directly at her chest. Her back slammed against the nearest wall, bolts of electricity spreading throughout her body. Although electricity couldn't kill the undead, it was useful inflicting suffering. "You…bitch!" she cried, before sliding down the wall.

Angelus himself landed against a prison cell with a loud yowl. He stood to his feet, blood leaking from his split lip. "Alright, whoever did that, you'll be getting your neck snapped like a piece of raw chicken," His brows furrowed into a scowl.

"The mighty Angelus. So we meet…. again. I had never expected that," a soft, but firm sing-song female voice mused from behind, hiding in the shadows.

The mysterious voice turn to probe at the Slayer, taking note that she was no longer breathing, before reversing her eyes to focus on Angelus. She prepared her crossbow once again, assuring that her stake was pocketed in a white pouch.

"You. You're supposed to be dead. I killed you," Angelus recognized the female form as she walked away from the shadows, revealing her face. Memories of the past raced through his thoughts.

She was tall, graceful, and beautiful, her aura radiating strength and power. Tendrils of white blond hair cropped close to her head in luscious curls. She was dressed in a 19th century Victorian lace gown. Next to Buffy, she was Angelus' worst nightmare come to life. She was known As Anna. The Vampire Slayer.


	8. Bleed

_**Author's Notes: According to the show, we all know the history of the First Slayer. In my story, all of that is going to change. This chapter is going to focus on her origins and also, the true identity of the First Vampire that was responsible for brainwashing Angel. During this chapter, Buffy is initially killed, but what some may not know is that her blood has caused Chaos to return to the world again, this time setting itself on arriving in Sunnydale, which is why the First Vampire in this story is not with Angelus, Darla, and the other vamps when they're being confronted by Anna. This chapter will also mention Anna's background and how she came to have known Angelus. Sorry for the lack of updates! Enjoy! **_

Present

The blood of the dead Slayer soon spilled onto the world, and the ultimate consequence that came with her sacrifice had developed into the belligerent form of Chaos. Chaos himself, or rather, it, was neither vampire, witch, or demon, nor was it human or spirit. It was all of those combined into its' DNA to create the ultimate being. And it has returned.

Past.

Chaos. It was responsible and credited for creating the most powerful and darkest of all magicks; one that had accidentally concocted the very First Slayer, though she had bore no gifts. Chaos itself had discovered that Fate, and the forces of light known as the Powers That Be, were held responsible for her birth.

Chaos, in its' shadowed form, was much more powerful and older than even its' only heir, its' only son, who was known then and now as the First Evil. Chaos was the Master that held the power to veer the entire universe, hell dimensions, vampires, demons, and even humans, into permanent darkness forever.

Knowing that Chaos was the biggest threat to the world of light, the Powers That Be had decided to kidnap the First Slayer from its' unrelenting clutches. The being was also intending to raise its' daughter into its' successor as a warrior, despite the fact that it never had any intention for creating the future supernatural being, and so the Powers were beyond desperation to save her from her own damnation and attempt to make her their Champion in the world that was slowly succumbing into darkness, even though it had never been aware of it.

They had erased all traces of her past memories and her true origin, blessing her with extraordinary gifts such as superhuman strength, heightened senses, fast healing, and the agility to combat even the most powerful source of all evil when the time had come to face it during the Final Day, which was rumored to begin at the beginning of the 21st century.

She was gifted with immortality, but somehow, her father had discovered a weakness, and had viciously killed her in combat in an attempt to take over the world. By then he had transformed into demonic form and became known as the First Vampire, preexisting Dracula by hundreds of centuries.

Saddened by the death of their only Champion against Chaos' forces, the Powers were strong and diligent and had created a plan in case if the First Slayer should fall into her demise. Time itself was not at their side, as numerous rumors had already surfaced that an incredibly dangerous vampire duo, who were known to be lovers that went by the names of Angelus and Darla, had been causing rampage and bloodshed throughout the villages in Europe; apparently had been direct orders from Chaos in an attempt to bring more grief to the already weakened Powers.

Without their beloved Slayer and Champion to rise against the strengthening forces, the Powers', and even their messengers the Oracles, were rapidly losing their strength and hold.

But in the midst of their pain, a spell was created to Call forth a girl destined to be the Chosen One as to each century that would pass; each girl born and gifted with the ability to fight demons and vampires, blessed with the same gifts that were given to the First Slayer, but without any remembrance as to how they were created or that they were each born with a demonic presence instilled in their powers.

As the centuries had passed, Chaos itself would slowly cease, despite its' tremendous power and influence; weary that as each Slayer is born, their power substantially grows until it had the potential to overthrow it and return the world into the light. Each Slayer that was born became more resilient, more stronger, more intelligent, until a girl born in the Victorian ages during the 19th century became the Powers' most strongest Champion.

Her name was Anna. She was known to be tall, lithe, beautiful, athletic, but extremely dangerous, even for a Slayer. At sixteen, she had slayed close to a combined total of ten thousand demons and vampires, and had prevented innocent humans from being sold into the vampire slave trade. To Chaos, she was its' biggest threat, until it had decided to send Angelus and Darla after her, hoping to prevent her from stopping his plans to bring the Hellmouth and the slave trade into the city.

Angelus himself had never expected to meet an equal in the form of his enemy, as he himself had killed close to ten Slayers in his 150 years of vampiric existence. He had never expected to meet a Slayer who had the power to combat both him, Darla, and Chaos until it was proven in a ruthless battle that she had come close to placing a wooden stake directly to his undead heart during a distraction that had come close to being fatal.

It was until he had discovered that she was not alone in her uprising. During his violent crime spree throughout Europe, he had the misfortune to feed off the flesh of many young female members that had belonged to many of the Gypsy clans, including the Kaldarash; feeding off of their blood in front of family members, no remorse or sympathy glistening in his yellow eyes as he had sung his fangs onto their flesh, reveling in their blood.

He had never known until the day he had fought with Anna the Slayer that his punishment was about to be granted. The Slayer was joined among the remaining members of the Kaldarash, carrying in her hand what had appeared to be the Orb of Thessulah that had carried the supposed soul of Angelus.

"You didn't think I was alone, did you Angelus? Do you know what I have carrying in my hand?" Anna the Slayer had cast the question, a firm, determined line setting on her lips. "My soul," Angelus had growled, preparing himself to launch at his arch nemesis. Where was Chaos? He was supposed to be here, Angelus thought in anger.

He had turned to note that Darla was no longer by his side. She had decided to leave him to die.

Angelus growled. No longer did he had any allies left.

Before he could make a move, he felt the involuntary shiver of a soul entering his cold body.

Anna the Vampire Slayer had enslaved Angelus, but not before her neck had been broken before the soul could enter his body.


	9. Promise

**Author's Notes: So I decided that this will be the final chapter for Weight of the World, as I want to move on and continue writing for Pyre's Song. This will be my longest chapter, and it's probably not my best one, but this is how I had wanted the ending to go down, and I've tried to not rush the storyline so much to appear as if I didn't cover enough of the plot to go on. There is going to be some references from the Buffy: Chaos Bleeds video game. **** I want to thank everyone for the reviews, and I hope that you guys have enjoyed the story, I really loved writing it. For this chapter, I worked at least five or six hours on it, really late at night. I should be ashamed. Ha. Hope you guys enjoy it!  
**

Sunnydale, California

Present Time

Night soon fell onto the clogged streets of Sunnydale. The blood of the Slayer had spilled onto the world soon after, and as a direct result, chaos and disorder had begun to rein in, taking control. Bodies upon bodies of lifeless corpses, the corpses that had once belonged to its' innocent, unaware residents, were scattered throughout the countless cemeteries and the downtown area. Anarchy had arrived. Vast buildings, including Sun Cinema, were now boarded in an effort to protect itself against the numerous vampires and demons that now roamed the streets. Both night and day were no longer safe for the residents of the Hellmouth.

There were no signs of streaming daylight surfacing in the untouched areas of the ghastly decaying town. The sky itself was construed with dark, thickening clouds that obscured the sun, sinking Sunnydale into what it deemed to be permanent darkness. The chirping of blue jays, animals of other nature, were no where to be heard; overtaken by the snarls, omnivorous howls and cries of those that belonged to that remote darkness.

By the destroyed lot of which Sunnydale High School had proudly once stood, beneath the broken shards and charred boards of various material, stood a gaping, exposed vortex that was rapidly increasing in depth and in length, suctioning the remaining debris into the embers of Hell itself.

The Hellmouth was opening, making itself known. Again. Weathered, slippery, monstrous arms revealed itself next to nothing, scrambling to escape from the widening circle, as if it was reaching for something steady to hold its' grasp.

With the Slayer falling to her demise, whatever last remaining residents they were had no chance of surviving the horrid ordeal. In the midst of the beginning of what came as the End of Days, Chaos looked upon the crumbling town, a smile of glee and pleasure increasing a thousand fold on its' ancient vampiric face; an army of demons clothed in heavy armor, carrying battle axes and swords, were standing firmly behind him, like vulgar soldiers going onto battle. Their target was Sunnydale, and soon after, the world. No longer was the Slayer there to stop them, they were free to choose whatever they wished.

Chaos was eager for the outcome; for soon, his Son was set to arrive.

Hell

Prison Chambers

"What's the matter Angelus? You look as if you have seen a ghost," Anna the Slayer teased with a flicker of confidence, twirling her choice of weaponry recklessly. "I'm sorry, how silly of me. Of course you have." The musings from the prisoners quieted down, sensing the power that cascaded from the ghostly form of the long-dead Slayer.

Both awe and fear were pasted in their deformed expressions, their sharpened fangs bristling, waiting for their chance to attack. "You're supposed to be dead. I killed you," Angelus growled, his hands balling into fists. Was this the Powers' doing? Anger came to a boiling point, and he was ready to unleash it, no matter who stood in his path.

He would go after the Oracles themselves if it was necessary; if they were the ones behind this Slayer's resurrection. "I see you haven't changed a bit. Still the same old beastly, inhuman _thing _that you are. You never were anyone of worthy, Angelus. Just another drunk who chased after dirty women." This she threw directly towards Darla, the obvious insult causing her hands to form into lengthening claws. "Bitch," Darla muttered, a bloodthirsty fierce frown spreading.

Behind Anna, ghostly forms of Slayers' past stood proudly behind her; all female, all shapes, and sizes, but each carrying their own power and agility as their own. Kendra herself was amongst the fallen. "You didn't think I came here alone, did you Angelus? Did you really think that the Powers' were going to allow you and the rest of the Fang Gang to destroy our line, destroy the Slayer? _Your _Slayer, if I should correct myself?"

Further agitation enveloped the heartless vampire. Anna grinned, knowing full well that she had hit Angelus' only weakness. She knew then that he was still capable of love, despite the lack of soul that enabled him. There was still a chance that Buffy could save him from what Chaos had in store for the vampire.

Inwardly, she shuttered at the thought.

Before Angelus could rebuff, everything, time and space, had seemed to stop on its' will, seemingly putting the tension between the two groups on hold. Then, a series of quakes ferociously rattled the delicate prison chambers, destroying what knick knacks remained in the cells. Demonic bodies were unwillingly pressed against one another as another small quake struck the brick-layered floors, causing Angelus and his vampire lover to lose their footing.

"Slayers, prepare yourselves. The End of Days has been predicted. It is here. I feel it," Anna warned, eyes searching for the presence of Chaos. No avail. "Indeed it is. The vampires are coming back to reclaim what was theirs. What it should have been," Angelus vowed, a rumble of cruel laughter emanating from him. The power surrounding him was increasing in numbers. Anna knew she had to hurry before he was lost. "And there is nothing you can do about it. You're helpless without the _other _Slayer," Darla sneered, flicking her polished nails.

"Really? Are you sure?" Anna cocked an eyebrow. Amongst herself and her fellow Slayers, their bodies, once nothing but phantoms, were now suddenly corporeal; flesh, bone, and blood pumping through their supernatural veins. Surprise developed in the eyes of the vampires, not believing what they were seeing.

"Is this a joke? How's this possible?" Angelus cowed, shaking his head in frustration. Anger flashed dazzlingly in his opaque eyes, his body shooting with spasms. "Oh, it's best to say you can thank the Powers That Be for their assistance. Most noticeably, the Oracles," Anna concurred. "You really think that that the bloody Chaos itself is the only powerful force giving you your gifts, Angelus? You've underestimated the Oracles. You've underestimated us all. And now, we are here to give the world back its' rightful Champion, the only one who will be gifted with the power to save you from your Master. Best be believed that we are prepared to battle The First, if that is what it would take to save the world from your mongers."

Interrupting her speech, Angelus wasted no time in an attempt to tackle his arch enemy onto the floor, his right hand cackling with flecks of black electricity that was coursing through his veins. He was more than determined to not allow that bitch Anna to resurrect his former love. Far be it that he would try to keep Buffy dead, for as long as it took, as her being alive was the very key that had prevented the End of Days from transpiring in the current century. If it hadn't been for that 'for each generation, there is a Chosen One' line.

"Is that all your Master has, Angelus? I've done better," Anna taunted, sending a flicker of new wave power through her fingertips that reached his chest, sending him reeling as he landed against Darla's small form, knocking her senseless. "Get off me!" Darla screamed, beating against Angelus. "Slayers, prepare your weapons for battle. We've got company," Anna instructed, noticing the demonic cellmates were no longer in their cells, each eying her warriors as if they were prey. As long as they were released, there was little chance that the Slayers were able to resurrect Buffy to life.

Anna knew that they had to hurry. Sunnydale was in desperate need of their Saviors.

"Now we're even, Slayer. Don't you agree?" Angelus smirked, his face more dangerously handsome than in previous thought. Anna produced a stake from behind, answering him with only a shadow of her confident smile. "My fellow Slayers, are we ready to take down these hobgoblins and save the world?" A resonant "Yes!" from the group. "Let's do our best to bring back our sister Slayer, shall we? She is the Key."

"Not if I can help it," Angelus cackled, Darla sneering along beside him, their eyes venturing towards Anna. "Oh, a threesome. Surely, I'd like this," Anna mused, and began her attack, ducking in between the swinging arms of both Angelus and his sire as they narrowly missed their target. In the midst of their beautiful dance, fellow Slayers immediately pounced upon the vampires and demons that conveyed the prison. In a matter of seconds, motes of ashes had fallen gracefully onto the floor until it had vanished. In the distance, Anna glanced at the lifeless body of her sister Slayer that had already entered rigor mortis. Eyebrows snitching together in determination, she blocked another throwing punch from the Scourge of Europe, backhanding him in retaliation before connecting her boot against the lower ribs of his sire.

"Slayers, regroup!" Anna's voice boomed. "Right boss," One Slayer commented in amusement before dusting a feral, two-hundred pound vampire into the familiar shimmers of dust. Anna smiled before she felt a rough hand tugging at her hair. "Play time's over!" Angelus barked, wrapping a hand around her throat, constricting her breathing. "I should have done what you had done to me: snapping your pretty neck!"

"And put the world at risk? No chance Angelus." Anna slammed her head against his forehead, connecting with the bridge of his nose before elbowing him in the ribs, back handing him. An imminent glow unexpectedly entered the chambers, blinding the surviving visitors with a hot red light. Anna knew what it was before it even had the change to register with the other Slayers: Chaos was making its' presence known.

"Oh look, my boy's back in town," Angelus cheered, finding a semblance of amusement in the dire situation they were in. _Typical, _Anna thought. "Slayers, band together. Chaos has arrived," She warned, teeth bristling, her hands mustering up the strength to bind both her enemy and his sire hostage. "I do not think so, Slayer. He belongs to me. Come Angelus, Darla. We are off to see the destruction of the Hellmouth. At last," Chaos commanded, expecting his dark warriors to obey his order.

"Well well, looks like we're gonna have to settle this later Slayer. Just you and me. Can't wait!" Angelus thrust out his unbound leg, using the strength to his advantage to kick beneath Anna's shin, knocking her off balance to give him time to free his unbound hand. "Let's get the hell out of here," he muttered to Darla. In one quick flash, they vanished, leaving the Slayers to fend off the last remaining vampires, but not without paying the price. She could scarcely make out the bodies of a few Slayers left lifelessly inside the broken cells, bones broken, skin bleeding fresh blood.

It was no use helping them. Without their comrades, the rest of the Chosen Army were without enough Slayer power to resurrect their Champion. A daunting feeling was settling in the pit of Anna's stomach as she contemplated on what to decide. With Darla and Angelus about to unleash more hell onto the unsuspecting world, she knew that time was not on their side.

She kneeled down in front of Buffy's body, inspecting the dried, opened wounds and the frigid paleness of her dead skin. "It is not too late to save her. It still can be done," a female voice whispered in her left ear. Anna instinctively knew that it was the Oracles at hand. "I'm sorry, but we do not have enough power in our disposal to resurrect her," Anna snapped, frustration building. "She may not have hers, but you have the power to give her what she already possess. The power does not lie within her strength as the Chosen One; rather her power lies within the unbreakable bond that is built of her love for the Vampire with a Soul. Theirs cannot be defeated nor overcome. Not even death itself nor the Powers can destroy their love they have for one another. Even in Angelus' current state of mind he cannot deny it."

"It will take only a drop of your blood, and your faith to revive her. I know that it can be done. Ourselves, and the Powers That Be, have complete faith that you will accomplished your mission, as you are one of our Champions, one of our best warriors. Her love and devotion is the only way she can save Angelus from succumbing into the darkness forever. Chaos may be the ultimate being, but even it cannot combat the power of love." And with that, the voice of the female Oracle had vanished, leaving Anna to ponder and absorb the information.

It took only a moment's hesitation before she pulled a silver edged dagger from a hidden pouch underneath her dress. It shone wickedly under what little light remained in the chambers as she pressed the blade against the skin of her forefinger, pricking it until a single drop of blood fell delicately against the disrupted, cracked floor. "Blood to blood, Slayer to Slayer, I beg thee to resurrect," Anna chanted, holding her finger directly over Buffy. A second drop of blood soon spilled onto her bare back, the skin absorbing it hungrily, as if it were parched.

Anna's army stood behind her, exhaustion and weariness overwhelming them; a variety of bloody wounds and fresh bruises could be seen on the rainbow pallor of their skin. "Slayers, step back," she ordered as they witnessed a silver glow escalating from the fallen Slayer's body, her icy skin absorbing the rising power into her body. Within moments, a loud gasp for breath escaped from her lips.

She was no longer naked and cold. She fluttered her eyes to open, catching her body dressed in a soft, white dress that flowed to her wriggling, bare toes. A shutter filtered through her bones; she felt the flow of blood returning to her, the beating of her heart thumping wildly against the floored brick underneath her. Confusion and spider webs gathered in the corner of her thoughts before they quickly disappeared into nothingness. Her mind was clear. She felt the strength of many Slayers combining into one being.

She no longer felt weak and helpless. She felt wiry and powerfully strong, as if she could take on the entire universe. Her fatal wounds had healed in the process. She used her elbows to pick herself up off from the floor, wiping away traces of dirt from her arms and hands. She sensed that she was not alone. "Slayer? Are you alright?" a feminine, strong voice carefully asked, approaching her with caution. Buffy peered into her newly found audience, which consisted of many of her fellow warriors, all fallen from centuries past.

"Let me guess. Slayers from the past, yadda yadda." Anna was mildly surprised by her tone, but a small smile played at her lips. "Yes. You may have remembered us from your dreams." Buffy's eyes narrowed in suspicion, before her answer confirmed it. "You must be Anna. And hey, Kendra, good to see you." Kendra stood behind Anna's tall frame, shoulders straight in formation before nodding in greeting. "Tis' nothin' Buffy. You bin' missed." Buffy laughed, before eying Anna. "Slayer, it is time that we should leave. Along with Chaos, Angelus and Darla are wrecking havoc on the Hellmouth. We need to stop them."

Buffy nodded, a slice of fear etched in the pit of her stomach. She was the only one gifted with the power to stop Angelus. But what if it was too late? She shook the frantic thought from her mind, gathering her fellow soldiers to discuss a plan that was already forming in the back of her mind.

She was determined not to repeat the biggest regret of her past.

Hellmouth

Businesses that strung along the sidewalk of downtown Sunnydale were immensely destroyed in unbearable conditions. Overhead in the darkness of the night, raindrops of blood spilled onto the streets, leaving their mark on concrete. Alleys, somber bars, coffee shops were now filled with a majority of the vampires and demons that continued to roam throughout the area in increasing numbers. Near the corners, two vampire bikers could be seen sucking the flesh from their unfortunate victims, reveling in their blood drunk haste.

Among the third feeding vampire that stood near the corner of Sun Cinema was Angelus, absorbing the last drop from a female victim that had once been a student of Sunnydale High. Recklessly, he tossed the victim onto the side, wiping the last traces of blood from his diluted mouth as he scanned for his next victim. "Nothing more freer than to not worry about that pesky soul curse anymore. Don't you agree my love?" He asked next to a shadow that belonged to Darla, who was finishing feeding off a male victim that appeared to be in his 40's. She tossed him aside, attention fully paid to her childe.

"Couldn't agree more. Not fun without the Slayers though. Don't you think?" She pressed a soft kiss directly towards his cheek, before licking it seductively. "My, my, my. Looks like your wish is about to come true lover. I see a blonde bimbo from a few feet away heading for us," Angelus pointed out, before his eyes widened. He realized that the bimbo was none other than Buffy herself. A _supposedly_ dead Buffy. "Dammit! Out of all the bad things the Powers could have done to me, why did it have to be this?" He growled, reaching for Darla's hand. But he didn't have the chance. Standing right before him was Buffy, eyes filled with deadly venom. Impossible.

"What's wrong Angel? Aren't you glad to see me?" A soft grin spread across her features as she tossed her head to the side. She used the moment to her advantage as she grabbed a few layers of his clothing and tossed him against a movie poster, glass shattering into small shards. "I guess it's just you and me honey. Angel killed you the last time. This time it's my turn." Buffy revealed a stake that was hidden behind her back as she veered it towards Darla's chest, the splinters entering the area of the cold heart. She peered towards her agonized lover. "Angel?" she muttered, before collapsing. In seconds, she was nothing but motes of dust. "Noooooooooo!" Angelus howled.

_Only you can save him Slayer, _the Oracles whispered in her mind. She nodded solemnly, a linger of doubt in her heart. She sprang towards Angel, regaining her strength, but not before she felt a trembling underneath her feet, offsetting her balance. Another earthquake was about to enter Sunnydale. Or so it seemed. "Where do you think you're going, Slayer? I will not let you have him," a deep voice cackled from behind, a cold hand clamping at her neck. Chaos. Blood was splattered on his clothing. Buffy sensed that it was the blood of many Slayers.

She looked directly behind. The last remaining Slayer left standing was Anna, fighting off against a hoard of green demons that encompassed her fallen warriors. Buffy had no time to acknowledge the scene as she sprinted towards the theater, attempting to attack Chaos before it reached Angel. "I will not let you have him, damnit!" Buffy chastised, cupping her hands instinctively to form a power ball that was cackling with white hot energy.

She tossed the ball of energy without hesitation, her target aiming for the vulnerable back of Chaos. The crackling energy hit between its' shoulder blades, enveloping him with the power of a thousand Slayers. "No! I won't let you hurt him!" Angelus barked, using himself as a shield to protect Chaos from his Slayer. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You don't think that he gives a damn about you, do you Angel?" An emotion of bewilderment ran deeply within the Slayer, puzzling her. How was she to save him when he was twisted into believing that she was evil?

_Slayer, through the gift that you have given him. Only you can set him free from Chaos' hold. It does not know love.  
_

They gazed at one another before Buffy herself was hit with a sparkling energy that mirrored her own. It was spreading throughout her body, inflaming her as if she was being set on fire, draining her. She howled in sheer agony. "I would not allow you to escape with my heir, Slayer. You are nothing compared to my power. When I die, he will rule. And you cannot stop me," Chaos sneered, nestling between Angelus and the Slayer.

Buffy gritted her teeth, venturing closely into unconsciousness. She couldn't chance to lose him again. Just a distance away, the sounds of swords clattering against one another could be heard. Anna fought and struggled against a new form that was mimicking her image. The First. Using the heavy-set blade, she attempted to slash it towards the upper part of its' right shoulder, but it narrowly missed by an inch. It laughed, despite the near hit.

Preparing herself for another swipe, she missed, noticing that it had disappeared into the darkness. She spun towards her fellow Slayer, standing side by side in preparation for another attack. Buffy shut her eyes, focusing her energy on the goal at hand. With the world tumbling towards chaos surrounding her, she was aware that she had only a last chance to rescue him. Now or never. But deep down, she vehemently feared that in order to do so, she would have to sacrifice him once again. She was not fully confident that she could kill him again.

"Buffy?" Anna's voice was full of worry, her face covered in blood stains and cuts. Buffy didn't respond. Her steely, resolved gaze fell towards Angel, trying to connect him with her eyes. Inside, even amongst the chaos and disorder, she felt a love burning brightly, that expanded deep in her chest. A love that she knew had never faded, despite the unfortunate separation and events.

She dropped her stake, doing something that she knew would put her life at risk again. She sprinted towards Angel, never giving a care that Chaos and its' Son were standing before the vampire, guarding him.

_Use your power. _

"What is this? Attempting to destroy me by sprinting, Slayer? I'll have none of that," Chaos laughed, fangs glistening. It was a sound that shattered panes of glass. Buffy rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "No, Your Highness. Something much cooler." With those words, she shut her eyes, focusing on her remaining power.

She felt the energy and life source from every Slayer that was born in the generations before her coursing through her veins. It was not like anything she had ever felt before. The power of her aura was glowing brightly, powerful enough to blind even Chaos and The First. In her left hand formed a silver-coated blade that was glowing with power that even Chaos was showing fear at the near sight of it. It was known as Hope's Dagger; a blade that was first constructed by the very first ray of light in thanks to the ancestor of Ethan Rayne, Cassandra Rayne;at one time, a warrior for the Powers That Be.

Legend has it that she had been the only Champion powerful enough to castrate The First from the Earth. And now, it was Buffy's turn as a Champion to perform the same task that was only worthy of those who were Chosen. "Help me save him," Buffy whispered in prayer to the blade, her body filling with cascading white light as she slashed the blade across the torsos of both Chaos and The First.

For a second, only silence was heard. Then another rattle of the earth. Anna stood motionlessly in shock, hand pressing against her mouth to muffle a gasp, but in trying to hold still. Then growls of pain erupted into the night. An expression of desperate pain filled the features of Chaos. "And now, I banish you both to the ends of the universe," Buffy cried, her right hand cupping into another fireball, this time forming into a vortex that resembled the Black Hole.

The tunnel widened, suctioning the demons unto the universe. It was closed, and silence fell upon the night. Buffy did not care less. Her attention was focused on a distraught, angry Angel. "Why did you do this?!" Angelus cried, rushing to tackle the Slayer onto the ground, punching her across the face with every ounce of strength. "Why? Do you have any idea at what you did? I have no purpose now. Thanks to you. I should have known better!"

Tears pooled in the corner of the Slayer's eyes, alarmed and heartbroken at the words coming out of the vampire's mouth. She felt his cold hands wrapping around her throat, constricting her breathing until her face turned red. Anna rushed towards them to push the vampire away from her. Buffy stood to her feet, whimpering, but she couldn't hold her feelings back. In the past, it had costed her Angel. "I did this for you! Don't you get it? You think I did this for the world? The world wouldn't be the same if I let you die. I couldn't go through with it. Not again. Not after with Acathla. I couldn't kill you again. I wouldn't be able to bear it if I did."

At this Buffy broke down completely, tossing Hope's Dagger aside. It clattered against a destroyed mailbox. "Why should you give a damn about me? You never cared. I wouldn't have been in this mess if it wasn't for you," Angelus snarled, sitting on top of the Slayer, clutching at her dress, his face mere inches from hers. "The world wants me gone. And so you."

"Why? Because I love you so much. And I tried to make it go away. I tried, and it didn't help. I hate it that it was so hard, and how you can still hurt me. But I do love you. More than anything in this world, and it hurts so damn much." No more words spoken, Buffy closed off the short distance between her and Angelus, pressing her lips roughly, passionately, against his, wrapping her arms around his neck, pushing him closer as if trying to blend their bodies into one. She attempted to use her love to weaken the spell that Chaos' had befallen on him. She had tried, unsuccessfully. Disappointment was settling in, but she was determined to not give up. She didn't want to lose him to the Evil of the universe. With surprise, Angelus kissed her back, the hazel eyes that had overtaken him were now returning to the familiar warmth of chocolate brown as he circled his hands around her waist. The pain and anger that had been directed at her had now dissipated, replaced with a peace and loved that he hadn't felt in a long time.

The darkened part of him still struggled to regain a hold. Angelus quickly shoved her aside, standing to his feet. "No, I won't do this. I won't lose myself in you."

"Angel! So you're just gonna let this big evil win? You're just gonna give it all up? I love you! I'd risk my life to be with you. I'd risk my life to protect you from all this. Don't you see that you're an important part in all of this? I can't do this without you. I won't." She trotted towards him, shoving her face against his shoulder, a tear spilling onto the concrete.

A sparkle of fireflies were suddenly circling around his body, as if caressing him. In mere seconds, Buffy was no longer embracing Angel. In his place took the form of a newborn male, sheathed in a warm, blue cotton blanket that covered his naked, fragile body. Buffy gingerly picked him up and held him between her hands, noticing the chocolate brown eyes that looked upon her in curiosity. He gurgled in joy. She looked down upon the blanket, the name Angel etched in beautiful calligraphy.

To the far right, the rays of the sun were rising, breaking the darkness, reflecting itself against the olive skin of the newborn. It didn't burn. Buffy smiled, holding him against her as more tears spilled. "I love you," she whispered against the child.

Angel was now given a second chance. To live.

The promise of someday was now a part of the Slayer's future. She smiled.

Fin.

Could be that there might be an epilogue to this......


End file.
